


Joy to the World

by FallacyFallacy



Series: The Annual Christmas Carol Fic [6]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ADHD Hamilton, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Parenting, Christmas, M/M, Mental Health Issues, bc this is already incredibly self-indulgent so why not go All The Way, main pairing is John/happiness pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: Alex comes down to join the Laurens family for Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to [Ossapher](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ossapher/pseuds/ossapher) for putting up with me to beta this work! <3
> 
> Also, FUN FACT: the lyrics to Joy to the World (as well as several other of the earliest Christmas carols) date back to the early 18th century, so it's totally possible the real Laurens could have heard them! Though it probably would've just been the worlds alone, since the tune we know didn't get associated with it until the early 19th century. But still!!
> 
> Warning for anxiety, depression, and brief suicidal ideation.

John Laurens genuinely loves Christmas.

He loves the trees. He loves the decorations. He even likes the music – although he will admit that he likes it substantially less the hundredth time he hears each song every year.

He loves the memories that come with it – of sitting in his mom's lap excitedly tearing up wrapping paper, of telling his younger brothers and sisters all about Santa Claus while they watched in rapt attention. He loves that these days, it's one of the few times of the year the family all gets together to spend time with one another and enjoy themselves.

He loves that at Christmas, peace on earth and goodwill to men _almost_ doesn't seem like an impossible childish fantasy.

He can no longer, sadly, say that he loves the religious part of it. But he likes the motions, and he likes churches. He tries to love it. And whatever guilt he feels now is mellowed, a little, by the love and forgiveness of God he can feel more strongly at this time of the year.

Thanksgiving is important, and Halloween is fun, and on the whole his birthdays have been fine. (Valentine's Day...he'd rather talk about, though.) But through Christmas, the world falls in love, and for at least a month, there's just one more little thing out there to be happy about.

And this fucking year, John has needed every little reason to be happy he can get.

“So!” he says, flopping down onto Alexander's couch next to his chair. “What're your plans this Christmas?”

Alexander shoots him a pleased smile in greeting, glancing up from the thick book he's going through. “Hm? Oh, uh...” He taps his pen against his notepad. “Well, Gil told me about this rave going on for Christmas Eve, so I'll probably head out to that. Next morning... well, depending on my level of sobriety, I'll probably do some more research for that criminology assignment – I've technically done enough, but I dunno, I really don't think I can answer the last question in enough depth yet...”

“Wait.” John sits up, shocked. “You're just staying here? Alone?”

Alex doesn't look up at him. “Sounds like it.”

John stares. When they first met a few months ago, figuring out when Alex was playing aloof because he actually had better things to do versus when he was just too insecure to ask for help had been a real struggle. Now, he thinks he has a pretty good instinct for it.

He sits up to grab Alex's hand. While he looks up, startled, John says, “You should come with me! Over winter break.”

“With you – you mean, with your family.”

John nods, excitedly. He hadn't planned this in advance, but the more he thinks about it, the more he loves the idea. “Yeah! We can spend a week at my house – which is super big, by the way, plenty of room. It'll actually be really casual this year – normally my dad's side all come over, but they're going to France on a holiday over Christmas this year, which will definitely make this all go a lot more smoothly.”

“Don't get along?”

“Not really, just...” John shrugs. “They're all white.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, Thanksgiving is always...a thing. But this time it'll be just us – my dad and sister and brother and me. And you! If you want!”

Alex is biting his lip. “Uh, it sounds nice, but I really don't want to be a bother-”

“Oh, you won't! I mean... you know the kind of money we have, now. So it really won't be any trouble. In fact, I welcome you to take as much as possible – I'd rather it go to you than a lot of the other stuff my dad does.”

Alex smiles a little weakly. John's not sure whether what he said helped.

“It'll be fun,” he insists. “I can show you around – it's a really gorgeous area, I used to spend hours just walking around outdoors – and you can see the house, and meet my brother and sister, and we can just do dumb Christmas stuff together.” 

Alex still looks unsure. So, he goes in for the kill. “And... well, this is our first Christmas together. I'd really, really like to spend it with you, if I can. I wanna do everything together.”

He squeezes Alex's hand tighter. Alex's lips twist in a smile – the one that always sets John's heart pounding.

“All right,” he murmurs, and brings John's hand up to kiss it. 

John grins, head already spinning with ideas.

“But, uh, on that...” Alex frowns, serious. “...you're not out to your parents, right?”

John's stomach drops.

“Oh, shit – yeah, shit, sorry, I totally forgot about that...” He sits back, grimacing. “Sorry, I – I shouldn't ask that of you, that's-”

“It's fine!” Alex leans forward, almost dropping his textbook. “I mean – obviously, I'd rather, but... I get how it is.”

John rubs his neck, looking away. “Sorry...”

Alex doesn't respond for a few moments, and when John finally looks back, Alex is staring at him fondly.

“To tell you the truth,” he says, almost in a whisper, “I'd rather do everything together with you pretty much all of the time. So.”

John can't stop himself from smiling back.

“Cool. Then it's a date.”

“It's a date.”

*

“I hate these things.”

John glances up; Alex is pushing at the seat divider in between them, trying to move it up. It isn't moving.

“Yeah, they kinda make it uncomfortable.” He fiddles with his seat belt, legs angled awkwardly. He tries not to show how unused he is to flying Economy. Alexander was already uncomfortable enough letting John fly them at all.

“They are attempting to separate us.” Alex stares at him suddenly, noble and defiant. “They are trying to obstruct our love, as so many have done before. It is a symbol of our oppression. Absolutely disgusting.”

John's lip quirks as he shifts. “I think you can handle a little plastic.”

“Of course.” With a flourish, Alex reaches over and places a hand on John's cheek. “I promised myself to you. And that means that I will never let anything stand in the way of our love.”

John snorts, ducking his head. He tries, as always, not to let on how uncomfortable he still is showing affection with Alex in public. Alex has had to deal with that enough already. And John is hardly going to get more than a couple of chances to act this way with him once they touch down. “You're a poet.”

Alex shrugs cheerfully. “Just getting it out of my system. Since for the next week we're going to be best hetero buddies, right?”

“...I didn't know it _could_ get out of your system. Has that ever happened? I don't think I've ever experienced that.”

“Oh, sometimes. I don't spend _all_ of my time mooning over you. I don't drape myself over textbooks, lounging artfully in lecture halls, sighing with passionate misery that my dearest John Laurens is away from me.” He tilts his head, smiling. “Not _all_ the time, anyway.”

John raises his eyebrows, but try as he might he can't help himself anymore. With a groan, he pulls away to drop his head into his hands.

As Alex laughs, John shakes his head. “I am,” he murmurs, thinking for a moment of every girl who had ever tried so hard to flirt with him and how little he had ever felt in response “so, _so_ gay.”

When he emerges, Alex is leaning back in his seat, looking pleased. He knits his hands together. “So, tell me about your family.”

“...ah. Well, my dad is-”

“Henry Laurens, Speaker of the House, right?”

John blinks. “Er, yeah. Sorry – since we don't look much alike, people don't usually realise we're related.”

Alex snorts. “At this college, you're either on a scholarship or you're someone's kid. If they don't immediately figure it, that's just racism.”

John shrugs. “Well, anyway – yeah, he is. So, like...” He struggles for a moment. “Er, you keep up with the news, so you probably have an idea, of what he's like.”

“Not personally, though.”

John frowns. “He's... he's a good man.” He feels strangely defensive already and shakes himself. “He comes across as kind of strict, sometimes,” he admits. “But he just – has really high hopes for us, y'know? I mean, he's literally been through all this stuff before, law school and politics and all, so I kinda have to listen to him.”

Alex nods. John's not sure what he's thinking.

“And you have siblings, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, we were – we were a big family, but. Genetic thing.” When Alex frowns in sympathy, John shrugs. “I didn't inherit it though – we definitely checked. So it's just the three of us kids now. Me, Pat, and Harry. And dad.”

He thinks. The more he tries to describe it, the more he starts to worry about this.

“Pat is really good – she and I've always gotten along really well. Harry though... um. Things are just kind of... awkward, between him and dad. He... didn't really wanna do the whole high-achiever mega extra-curricular stuff like me, I guess. So.”

Alex is still frowning.

“It's – I doubt it'll come up, though, or anything. It's-” He sighs. Tries to remember what had convinced him about this idea in the first place. He hadn't realised the tension that had been building in him throughout the year had left his shoulders until it started settling in again just now. “It's a really good place. I have a lot of really good memories there. And even if we don't always agree with one another, we all love each other and try to do our best for one another. I dunno.” He looks down. “Maybe I've just been homesick or something, lately.”

Alex's hand falls on his shoulder. Above them, a speaker coughs, and the muffled voice of the pilot begins to announce the fight details and day's weather.

“I look forward to meeting them,” Alex says quietly.

John's heart lightens.

“Me too,” he says.

*

“You have a driver,” Alex says slowly as they enter the car.

“Yeah?” John sits, and then pauses. “Shit, that's a rich asshole thing, isn't it.”

Alex raises his eyebrows and focuses on his seatbelt.

“...um. Sorry.”

Alex shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for.”

But John bites his lip as he configures his own seatbelt, thinking.

Then he says, tentatively, “Er... so, there's probably going to be a lot more stuff like that, once we get there?”

Alex doesn't respond. John looks away, feeling strangely guilty.

Once they get out of the city, however, John's mood soon lifts. He really does love it here – the old-fashioned architecture, the trees, the sunlight. He breathes in the air, wishing it was warm enough to roll down the window.

“It's really a wonderful area...” he murmurs, almost to himself. “There are so many different kinds of trees... live oaks, pin oaks, _pinus taeda_ \- I've forgotten now, but I learned a whole bunch back when I was younger. Y'know, it's just so much nicer out here in the country, don't you think? Just something about the air – it ain't right, living in a city your whole life.”

Alex snorts. “Didn't have you pegged for a farm kid.”

“You joke,” John says, “but I tell you, and I'm serious here – I would'a fuckin' _loved_ to be a farm kid. I used to stare out the window at all the pastures and the cows and sheep and stuff – I really, really loved animals for a while there. Always thought I'd end up being a vet or something.”

It's strange – it's been so long since he remembered that.

Alex is watching him. “Well...” he says, appraisingly. “You would look pretty good in cowboy boots, which in my universe is the only important criterion.”

John stares back at him, dead on. “If you tell me that, I will buy them, and I will wear 'em. This is not a joke.”

Alex holds his gaze. But he falters. “Please don't,” he mumbles, covering his mouth.

John just laughs.

The sight of his childhood home approaching through the window pierces John's heart in a way he can't put into words. It always seems so much larger than his memories tell him in comparison to his dorm rooms, but coupled with the new visual information is a sucker-punching childhood nostalgia that tints the entire picture almost out of recognition. He suspects that Alex is applying his neutral face again that consistently appears whenever the differences between their personal histories are made so apparent, but for the moment John feels at peace, and he allows himself it.

By the time he knocks on the front door, however, the tension is already starting to return.

“Jack, you're home,” his father says as soon as the door swings open.

“Yes, sir.” John shakes his hand with a smile.

Henry frowns. “So where were those phone calls you promised me, eh?”

“Oh...” John stumbles. “Er...”

“Couldn't even email? Aren't you kids always online these days, and you couldn't spare ten minutes to send your father, who raised you, a simple 'how're you doing'?”

John feels trapped here, hand still held tightly. “Uh... sorry. Just, been busy. Law school, you know.”

“Y'know, I went through that too – and with a job as well. Didn't keep me from calling my father.”

John smiles weakly. He can feel Alex watching this. “Sorry. I'll try harder.”

Henry glares one final time. “You always say that. And you there - you must be Alexander.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” As though there hadn't been any awkwardness at all, Alex shakes his father's hand smoothly, flashing him the same only slightly cocky smile John had seen levelled at so many professors.

Henry nods; John thinks he looks impressed. “You're a law student too, I hear? First year?”

“Yes, but I'm doing an accelerated course, so I'll be dropping a semester. Tried to bring it down to just two years, but apparently the university isn't allowing that anymore. Some previous student who had a breakdown, and now they're all scrambling to protect their image.” Alex rolls his eyes.

Henry nods to John. “Good to see. Could learn a thing or two from your friend here.”

John tries to smile.

Finally, Henry turns around to let them in. “Well, I'm sure you can handle showing him around. I have to get back to work. Not all of us can afford to take a whole week off for Christmas.”

John decides not to mention the 4,000 word essay he has due on New Year's Eve, but it's more because every time he remembers it he feels shock waves through his entire body than out of any desire for social harmony.

Pat and Harry are hanging out in the living room. When his sister looks up from her book, her eyes light up.

“Hey, Jacky!”

John grins. “Hey Pat. Doing well?”

She shrugs. “Well enough. But Christ, you did _not_ warn me nearly well enough how freaking c _cold_ those dorm rooms are in winter...”

“I try not to think about it. Which is the solution I recommend.”

Pat's eyes flicker over to Alex. “So, this is your friend.”

There's something about the way she says it, or the way she looks at Alex, that makes John instantly uncomfortable.

“Yeah – this is Alex. He lives in the room next door. He was just stay in the dorms, so I figured he should come here over Christmas.”

“Hiya,” Alex supplies.

Pat looks at John now, meaningfully. “That should be fun,” she says. Her eyes scream at him.

John huffs. This was a good idea. He's not going to be dissuaded at this stage.

“Anyway... Alex, this is Pat, my sister, and Harry, my brother.”

Harry raises his hand half-heartedly for a moment, not for a moment dragging his eyes away from the game he's playing.

“...so, uh.” John pauses. “...I guess it's time to show you around?”

Alex nods. “Sure.”

He doesn't give Alex the full tour – it's really way too big of a house, and Alex doesn't need to know that they have shit like a gym room that literally never gets used or a literal, actual old servant's quarters. But it's nice to walk around with Alex and drink in the place again. It's always a big shock, returning to such an old and familiar place after all the newness of his college dorms, but Alex being here bridges that divide somewhat and makes the transition feel much more natural.

He seriously doesn't realise how much he's been waiting for that final drop of relief to hit him, however, until he steps outside onto the verandah and looks out over the yard.

It's just as he remembered it – the giant trees, the wide open spaces. He knows that the browns and greys might not look much to a New Yorker used to glittering (and not so glittering) snowfall, but John never liked snow all that much anyway, especially in the city.

He pauses there for a minute or so, revelling in the memories – playing cowboys and Indians with his brothers and sisters when he was younger, trying to make clubhouses that inevitably got soaked out under the giant boughs before him – until he abruptly realises that Alex hasn't spoken since he left his siblings behind.

He looks back. Alex is watching him.

“So, what do you think?”

Alex considers this. He looks out at the yard, runs his hand over the pole beside him.

“It's a beautiful house. I can tell you really love this place.”

John breathes in and out, slowly. “Yeah. I do. Lived here a long time.” He taps his fingers on the balustrade. “I guess...I know I have a place here, or something.”

“You have a place at college, too.” Alex is frowning. “You worked hard to get in there. And now you have me – and Laf, and Herc, and even Washington.”

John shakes his head. “Yeah, you're right. I dunno, just a thought.”

He clears his throat, and continues talking before Alex can continue. “Would it be weird if I ran right across the yard to that tree and climbed up in there, right now?”

Alex grins. “Not if I join you.”

And Christ, it's been way too long since John last did this – moved his body like this, for the sake of it, for the physical pleasure. He hoists himself up onto the thick branches (was it always this hard to maneuvre around on these things?) and tries to find his balance, hands trying not to press for too long against the cold, slightly damp bark.

Alex joins him a moment later, almost falling into him as he clambers up beside him.

“Oof- _shit-_...”

John laughs. “Didn't climb much when you were a kid?”

“What kid didn't _climb? _No, look, I just never climbed trees like _this_ , okay...”__

__Alex puts a hand to John's shoulder to steady himself, glaring down at the shaking branch bearing his weight._ _

__“Is this thick enough, do you think?”_ _

__“I-” John huffs, then laughs, quickly grabbing on to another branch to keep his position when Alex shoves him._ _

__“You know what I mean. How often do these branches break? Sorry that I don't have your _botanical education_ here.”_ _

__“You're like 100 pounds, you'll be _fine_.”_ _

__Alex glares at him._ _

__“I'm glad you came with me,” John says, accidentally._ _

__Within a moment, Alex is smiling at him again, fondly._ _

__“I mean,” he murmurs, leaning his shoulder against John's, “you still never did answer my question, about the thickness...”_ _

__John veers away, glancing back to the house._ _

__Alex's hand, which had hovered over John's for a moment, vanishes._ _

__“Sorry,” John says, and is overwhelmed for a moment with reasons why._ _

__“It's not your fault,” Alex says._ _

__John still wishes that he could actually fix something, for once._ _

__*_ _

__They sit up in the tree for a while longer, talking about college and the environment and what Hercules and Gilbert must be up to this evening. Despite the obvious conversational thread, Alex continues to avoid volunteering any information about his own childhood or family. Having given him the opportunity several times over the course of their friendship, he tries one final time here, and when Alex even now manages to shift to another topic with almost seamless ease, John finally gives up. He doesn't like being kept in the dark, but only because he's anxious not to say anything that might be unintentionally hurtful. He's become better – even good, he thinks – at understanding Alex's often mercurial moods, but he can't stop worrying about the possibility of hurting him without even noticing it._ _

__Alex also doesn't flirt with him again, even though John can see the way his hands twist and tap against the branches uncomfortably, where they would normally be tracing over John's hands or running through his hair. John feels guilty, and relieved, and guilty about being relieved._ _

__After a day of travelling, the afternoon passes quickly. Once it becomes too dark, they return inside to play a couple of rounds of some fighting game John was never very good at. Before long, Christmas Eve Eve is underway, and dinner is set._ _

__He tenses for a moment when Henry sits down at the table with a sigh, opposite him._ _

__“Man, it's been so long since I've had a home-cooked meal like this,” Alex says, glancing at John as he waits for permission to start eating._ _

__“Same here,” sighs Pat._ _

__“So, Jack,” Henry says, conversationally, reaching to serve himself some pork. “What are your thoughts on Gates's new bill?”_ _

__It takes several seconds for John to register the question. “The- sorry?”_ _

__“The new bill. Introduced last week.”_ _

__He hears Pat _tsk_ quietly further down the table. John is frozen._ _

__His mind reels for an answer, but before he can speak, he hears a scoff._ _

__“Pretty typical for him, honestly. There's a trouble with over-spending? Just throw more money at the problem! I've looked it over – the committee gives a horrible rate of return. Pouring even more into it isn't going to solve anything, so the only result is that we'll have to take even more money away from things that are actually working.”_ _

__Henry nods at Alex, impressed again._ _

__“Exactly. It's completely nonsensical, nothing but a cheap ploy for his re-election campaign next summer. But what I _don't_ get is why these people always feel the need to come up with something new when what the public _actually_ needs is just one thing: tax cuts.”_ _

__Alex is piling potatoes onto his plate. From the unfocused haze in his eyes, John can tell instantly that his attention has been captured in its entirety by the conversation. “I mean, tax cuts definitely have their place, and are an important tool for driving the economy, but when we have such a huge amount of debt right now, we can't even afford to think about it. This is something we're not going to be able to deal with in our lifetime – we need to think of how to be responsible for our children, you know? So while cuts in strategic places could be a good idea, our absolute first priority right now should be going through these budgets and getting someone to check that it all adds up. We're seriously haemorrhaging money in so many areas that aren't getting noticed because nobody bothers to run the numbers before they're implemented.”_ _

__“Well, I won't argue with that. There's a real lack of long-term planning these days, if you ask me. We can't seem to look at the bigger picture anymore – everyone just wants to be handed out money here, there, and everywhere, for every minor little problem. People think it gives them more freedom, but all it does it centralise power among the very people most likely to abuse it.”_ _

__John stares. Are Alex and his father... getting along?_ _

__Now that he sees it happening, he's not sure why he ever expected anything different._ _

__“Certainly, we need to be wary of any one person or group having too much power. But government isn't the only thing that applies to, in my view. Public officials, at the least, have certain obligations of responsibility and transparency to their people. Private citizens – even if, yes, they run public companies – don't have that. Quite the opposite – businesses have an obligation to externalise as much loss as necessary on the general public. And right now, government is pretty much the only thing capable of keeping the very large businesses in check. No, the best checks and balances on government are the ones we've always had – the judiciary, the houses, the people.”_ _

__“More government, you mean!” Henry huffs, but he doesn't seem displeased with the argument. “What the people of your generation don't seem to realise is that businesses _do_ have an obligation, to their stock-holders! And that's an obligation that actually requires efficiency, on an objective level – not merely wowing a handful of swing constituents with exciting new policy programs that will never work every few years! If we left everything up to the government, nothing would ever get done in between campaigning and-”_ _

__“Look, no-one's trying to say that private businesses aren't an integral part of any remotely functioning economy-”_ _

__Henry guffaws, loudly. John drops his head._ _

__“Actually,” his father says, with a very deliberate look in his direction, “there's someone who tried to tell me exactly that just a few years ago!”_ _

__Alex spins towards him, startled. John bites his lip._ _

__“I didn't...” he attempts, as calmly as possible, “...say that businesses could be removed from the current economy just like that, without replacing them with anything, or with government in its current state. I was merely... _questioning..._ whether the role that business plays couldn't be done better – more humanely and, yes, at times, more efficiently – by something else. It's a question I thought was, at the least, worth asking.” He puts his fork down._ _

__“With what, then? Volunteers? Charity?”_ _

__He can see out of the corner of his eye Alex has hunched over himself, and is fiddling with a thing in his coat pocket. John tries to breathe slowly._ _

__He wants to argue this. He can feel his temper returning, as it sometimes does – as it has, with his father, more than once before. But he can already tell how awkward Alex is feeling, having started this unknowingly, and no matter how correct his position feels to him, it's been years since he's had the time to keep up with any kind of activism._ _

__“...sorry, but I don't really feel like discussing this right now-”_ _

__“Because you don't know!” Henry shakes his head. “Like I said, no long-term planning. All fancy, exciting ideas.” But he gestures at Alex. “Well, at least now I know you have one sensible friend to keep you on the right track!”_ _

__At the word 'friend', he feels Pat's intense gaze on him again. He doesn't know what she's trying to achieve with that but he really does not need to deal with it at the moment._ _

__“So, Alexander, you're focusing on economics, are you? Also planning on entering politics?”_ _

__“Absolutely. So who knows – maybe your son and I will end up working together on that someday. Or maybe we'll be campaigning against one another.”_ _

__Henry snorts. “That's a battle I'd like to see.”_ _

__*_ _

__“So, yeah, like I said, you'll have to be staying in this room for the night.”_ _

__Alexander has already dropped down to open up his backpack for the night. “And you're just next door, right? Got it.”_ _

__“Yeah.” John lingers in the doorway and rubs his upper arm. It doesn't feel right anymore, Alex being here. It feels weird. Uncomfortable – or discomforting. He tries to push the feeling aside, but it pushes back against him, over and over._ _

__“Sorry,” he says, awkwardly. “My dad's just... yeah.”_ _

__Alex continues to rummage through his bag. John waits, suddenly anxious. Alex always speaks from the heart, and John isn't sure he's prepared for that tonight._ _

__But Alex shrugs. “Nah, it's fine,” he says, once he removes a pair of boxers. “I didn't mind at all. I do like a good political argument.”_ _

__John stares._ _

__“I mean, yeah, he's pretty stubborn – but I guess you gotta be after that long in politics, you know?” He shrugs, carelessly. “And either way, it's clear how much he cares about you. And really believes in you. Like you said – he just wants you to succeed, right?”_ _

__When John doesn't respond for a few seconds, Alex looks back at him._ _

__But John has no idea what to say._ _

__“...yeah. Like I said, I guess.” John scratches the back of his neck. “So, uh...I'll just head off to bed, then.”_ _

__After closing the door, he walks back to his room feeling pins and needles in his legs. His brow won't un-furrow. He definitely feels uncomfortable now; the sensation is completely unmistakeable, the slight nausea in his gut a depressingly familiar presence._ _

__When he opens his room's door, he stands there for a long time, not quite feeling the motivation to move and prepare for bed._ _

__He wanted to get away from this, at least over Christmas. It'd been a nice idea – to feel... _good_ , for a while, and enjoy his childhood home and being with his family and his boyfriend. But now he feels more out of place than ever._ _

__He goes to bed, eventually, and when he closes his eyes, he falls asleep almost immediately._ _

__*_ _

__He wakes up slowly, falling back into his dozing without resistance many times. He wonders whether he really needs to get up out of bed today, but then remembers where he is; if he doesn't emerge from his room, Alex and his family will worry. So, he acknowledges, he will get up. Eventually._ _

__It doesn't feel fair. The thought prickles at him, selfish, and he flinches from it with his usual reflexive guilt, but it settles along his skin regardless. It isn't fair. He didn't ask for much. He had been extremely reasonable. He had wanted to be able to enjoy only a single week, over Christmas, at his own home._ _

__He tries to muster up his enthusiasm – it's Christmas Eve; how many times as a child had been unable to sleep on Christmas Eve night out of excitement? - but the thought slips from his fingers. He doesn't feel excited. It doesn't feel terrible, but it does feel unfamiliar, and he's so sick of feeling that way._ _

___I should've just stayed home to work on that assignment with Alex_ , he thinks, and then rolls over. Fuck, the assignment. He still doesn't know what he's going to do. He knows the professor was encouraging them subtly to take the affirmative, but he can't seem to structure the argument in his head – all of his good, interesting ideas are in the negative... But will he be graded more harshly for seemingly missing the obvious conclusion? He remembers an earlier essay, when his professor had drawn a large question mark beside his entire introduction. He'd gotten a decent grade for that course in the end, but..._ _

__He gets up, more to kick himself out of college thinking than anything else._ _

__Downstairs, Alex is already up, and John feels a strong but worryingly momentary pang of guilt for leaving him alone like that. But just as quickly he wishes he could walk over and hug him, which he can't, so he offers him little more than a tired smile and a “Good morning.”_ _

__“Morning! Sleep well?”_ _

__John shrugs. Alex rolls on his feet; he's fiddling with something again. It must be even more of a strain on Alexander – if he isn't working on something for college or out impressing friends and foes alike, his default position is to be all over John. But John is tired._ _

__“You?”_ _

__Alex smiles. “Yeah! Like, for real, that bed was super comfy. Definitely puts our dorm rooms to shame!”_ _

__John nods. “Cool, cool.”_ _

__Pat is just finishing off a plate of breakfast. “Happy Christmas Eve!” she says as she stretches._ _

__“Yeah, same.”_ _

__Harry is there, too. John waits for a greeting. Instead, he finishes his plate, stands up, and leaves without a word._ _

__Pat watches him with wide eyes, then looks back at John._ _

___...well, okay_ , he thinks._ _

__“So, we got any plans for the day?”_ _

__Pat is still looking at him. “Actually, I wondered if maybe we should go for a walk? It's not actually that cold today. Just since it's been so long since we last went, together.”_ _

__John thinks on that. “Yeah. That actually sounds like a good idea.”_ _

__“Awesome!” Alex says. “You can show me all the sights – tell me all those fancy tree names you mentioned before!”_ _

__“Hah...like I said, I don't really remember those anymore.”_ _

__“Still!”_ _

__John shrugs. “I mean, yeah, it's a good idea.”_ _

__“It _is_ a good idea,” comes a voice from the hallway. In walks his father, fully dressed and apparently ready to walk out the door immediately. “We can't use the holiday season as an excuse to forget about health and fitness. Maybe Jack should do it at a run, actually – can't imagine there's much space for that in the city.”_ _

__John glances at Alex. But, as with last night, he seems utterly unperturbed – in fact, he looks back at John with a cheerful smile._ _

__John feels guilty. Why can't he just be happy about this?_ _

__“...uh, if it's all right, sir, I think I'll stick to a walk. I wanted to show Alex around.”_ _

__Henry nods, satisfied. “Then we'd better all get ready, if we want to go before noon.”_ _

__John wonders, irritably, where his brother went. Maybe he'd guessed something like this was going to happen._ _

__Before John knows it, they're bundled up and at the edge of their backyard where the forested part of the lot begins. Being in the cool air, smelling of pine and recent rains, calms John in the face of seemingly continual glances from Alex towards him. He ignores them all._ _

__“So, Alex,” Henry says with aplomb, as soon as they begin to walk. “Obamacare.”_ _

___Oh god._ John hangs back long enough to walk in step with Pat._ _

__“Can you like, talk about something? I seriously can't listen to this right now.”_ _

__Pat raises an eyebrow and glances ahead to their father, but doesn't question him. All she says is: “You sure can pick 'em, huh?”_ _

__What does that even mean? John sighs, deeply._ _

__“Law students,” he says._ _

__“You're a law student,” she points out._ _

__“Guess so.”_ _

__Pat continues to look ahead. John crosses his arms, already regretting this attempt to speak with her._ _

__They've been close ever since they were young – the only two that remain of the first group of children, before the disease began to strike. He remembers trying the best that they could to take care of his younger brothers and sisters as they grew weaker and weaker. He remembers how they almost took over as parents, for a while, after their mother died and their father became lost in grief. He remembers how they held one another tightly, worrying that they too could be carrying it and never, ever know._ _

__He knows that's why his father tries so hard with him, now. He ended up with so much less family than he thought he had._ _

__John hadn't meant to keep anything from her. But he'd fought against feeling this way for so long, wanting to believe that there was some way he could live without his father finding out, and it was only so recently with Alex that he'd given in on that front. When it comes to telling anyone else about it... well, he still hasn't worked that one out._ _

__So he really fucking wishes she would stop sending him these 'knowing' looks and comments now and then. Does she realise that other people are also capable of noticing where she's looking and when?_ _

__“You must be good friends, though, if you brought him here. So he's not _just_ a law student.”_ _

__“Well...yeah,” John says. The last few remaining leaves crunch underfoot. “I mean, since dad's been kinda corralling him since he first arrived, you haven't really had a chance to meet him, properly. But he's...” he struggles for words. “...the kind of person it's impossible to really dislike, in the end.”_ _

__Pat raises her eyebrows again. John rushes to explain._ _

__“I mean – like, yeah, he has a lot of bad qualities, obviously. He's really argumentative, even over dumb stuff – which, y'know, currently obvious – and can be really melodramatic and is losing shit all the time and sometimes just kind of interrupts and steamrolls over everything you do... but. He does all of those things because... he cares, really really strongly. He's incredibly passionate, and he doesn't do anything by half-measures. He aims highly, and he works to achieve it – but he thinks it through, and knows exactly the thing he wants to do and what kind of person he wants to be. He's the sort of person who says that he's gonna, like, be the president some day, and change everything about what America does, but you believe it, because he tells you in detail _exactly_ how he's gonna do it. And – he's so charming with people he doesn't know, but then he's so loyal to anyone he considers a real friend – he's been there for me so much over these last few months, I've really...”_ _

__John stops talking._ _

__Pat doesn't talk at first either._ _

__In the ensuing silence, the conversation from up ahead drifts back to them._ _

__“...so, if anything, I think John's real flaw is his self-confidence. He just doesn't realise how many talents and abilities he really has!”_ _

__Henry nods. “I agree entirely. He lacks the drive that comes with true confidence.”_ _

__“Hm,” Pat murmurs, and then nods. “Thanks good.” And then she says: “You've seemed a bit stressed out, lately. So I'm glad you're not all alone at college.”_ _

__John nods._ _

__*_ _

__When they return home, John finds himself in front of the Christmas tree. He wonders who decorated it this year. Probably a maid._ _

__Looking at the few presents scattered underneath it makes him anxious. He'd placed his own present to Alex there the day before, but now he suddenly wants to take it back and destroy it and go out and find a new one. What had he been thinking, buying Alex something so expensive? Hadn't he thought about how awkward it would make him that he couldn't afford anything so nice in return? Of course he hadn't – he'd seen it and liked it and bought it without even once becoming aware of that divide between them, which Alex must think about all the time. But then, his siblings and dad would be giving and receiving the same kinds of presents. Wouldn't it look really weird and bad if his present for Alex and Alex only was really cheap?_ _

__He chews on his nail nervously._ _

__He's aware, of course, that he's a really shit boyfriend. He's barely even looked at Alex today, let alone spoken to him, despite the fact that he's only here on John's express and heavily pushed invitation, but the events of this day make up only a small patch on the vast tapestry of John Being A Shit Boyfriend. He's hardly had any time to spend with him at all, time which has only become more and more scarce as the year goes on, and even when he does have it, he all too increasingly would rather just stay in his room being moody and watching nature documentaries on Netflix. Alex, meanwhile, despite taking even more classes than John, not to mention all that extra-curricular stuff with Washington, _and > his disability, still manages to always be the one pressing for them to hang out. And that's not even getting into John's woeful texting. Alex never really complains much beyond the few times he's unresponsive for a whole day straight, but Laf has sensitively informed him about the more than one occasion when Alex complained to him for _hours_ because John had gone abruptly and inexplainably radio silent.__ _

___And it really hurts, because this was his first real chance to do it properly. He'd had a few half-hearted girlfriends in high school – at least, in the sense that a girl had liked him and asked if they could be a couple and he hadn't been able to think of any reason to say no. But daydreaming constantly about kissing Francis Kinloch never led anywhere, except for maybe staring at him for a few moments too long now and then, and no matter what their parents would prefer, he'd never actually been dating Martha Manning and, at this point, never would. He had felt impossibly guilty about all of that, at the time – but if this is how much of a burden he feels even when he's dating someone he actually loves, he can't imagine how he'd feel if he and Martha _had_ gotten married._ _ _

___He does love Alex, and he had meant it when he said that Alex had been there for him to an incredible degree over these last two months. And now, of all fucking things, he's mad at Alex for not being able to tell – via telepathy, presumably? - why John's stressed out at a family holiday celebration that he himself insisted on._ _ _

___He seriously wonders at times why Alex hasn't done what seems to be inevitable and broken up with him already. He's more than aware of the plenty of other people who have already fallen for his charm – and Alex has made it more than clear that he notices them all in return. Any one of them could be a better choice._ _ _

___But the thought _wrecks_ him. He loves Alex. He doesn't know what he'd do without him anymore._ _ _

___“It's been a while since I've had an actual Christmas tree, on Christmas.”_ _ _

___Alex appears next to him, voice quiet._ _ _

___“Like, in an actual house. And, shit, this is a real one, too. It's nice.”_ _ _

___John nods._ _ _

___“So...uh, I was-”_ _ _

___“Have anything you wanna do this afternoon?” John turns to him. “Obviously we're having a Christmas Eve dinner, but since it's just us this year, we don't really have any other plans. We could organize a movie, or just go and relax on our own?”_ _ _

___Alex stares at him._ _ _

___“Uh... relaxing is good, I guess. I could do some more work on that assignment, like I planned.”_ _ _

____You had to remind me_ , John thinks. “Right. Cool. Well, I'll be in my room, so come see me if you want anything.”_ _ _

___John goes upstairs._ _ _

___He wishes Alex would stop sending him those looks, too. He doesn't know what to say to them._ _ _

___*_ _ _

___His father fetches him early to carve the turkey._ _ _

___“This is the most important duty,” he says, as he has for the last three years. “Someday, you'll be doing this for your wife and children, so you'd better get good at it with us.”_ _ _

___John tries to remember where to start. He only hesitates for a second, but Henry catches it._ _ _

___“You have to take the legs and wings off first. Don't just start cutting.”_ _ _

___He starts on that._ _ _

___“Clean cuts – don't butcher the poor thing.”_ _ _

___He tries to slow down, cutting smoothly._ _ _

___“No, no – you've got to angle it more. Use your shoulder properly.”_ _ _

___By the time the turkey is done and presented in slices on the table, John already feels like he'd rather just go to bed already._ _ _

___They say grace and divvy up the food. John holds back, allowing Alex and the rest of his family to take their portions of the vegetables and meat, plays at being patient for a moment so he can catch his breath._ _ _

___“So, Gates's bill.”_ _ _

___John stills._ _ _

___He hears his father bite a piece of turkey, chew it, then swallow._ _ _

___“Don't think I didn't notice you never answered my question last night.”_ _ _

___Pat cuts in. “It's Christmas Eve – is this really the time?”_ _ _

___John crosses his hands over his plate._ _ _

___Haltingly, he says, “I...pretty much agree with what Alex said.”_ _ _

___“So you have no opinion of your own?”_ _ _

___He hears Pat huff. Well, she had given him an exit, and he hadn't taken it. He can't tell how Alex is reacting, if at all._ _ _

___John breathes in slowly. “I've... been pretty busy lately, with college. There's, uh, this big assignment I'm working on – so it's been... a little while, since I've checked up on stuff.”_ _ _

___Henry snorts. “You can't let that happen, son. No matter how busy you get, just keep going. Keep working hard at all times. As soon as you take a break, even for a moment, you get soft – and then it's twice as hard to get back to work.” He narrows a look at him. “I hope you're not getting involved with all that college partying and drugs and that sort?”_ _ _

___John shakes his head, still staring at his plate._ _ _

___“Good. These are the most important years of your life, you know – the ones that will define you forever. I understand the temptation towards youthful rebellion – I was young once, too – but in the end, I recognised that my father knew better, and I was right. The worst thing you could do right now is squander the opportunity in front of you.”_ _ _

___John nods._ _ _

___“Yeah, that'd be terrible,” mutters Harry, so quietly John almost doesn't hear._ _ _

___“Just look at your friend! He has the right idea,” Henry says, with a jabbing point towards Alex._ _ _

___Pat is staring at him again, on 'friend'._ _ _

___Alex chuckles, awkwardly._ _ _

___For several long moments, Henry doesn't say anything else. John breathes in and out._ _ _

___The break this afternoon had been a welcome relief, in as far as he could avoid the continual pangs of guilt that he _should_ be entertaining Alex or _should_ be spending time with his long-unseen father or brother or sister or _should_ be working on his assignment, all congealing together such that it felt less terrifying to simply do nothing. But it seems he might as well have spent the day in conversation after all, because the moment he stepped foot in that kitchen his nerves had returned full-force. Now, he feels stretched taut; any unnecessary movement feels dangerous. He digs his nails into his hand, and the pain loosens him, just a little. His head throbs._ _ _

___Henry sips at his wine. “...so, I was thinking.”_ _ _

___“...Yes, sir?”_ _ _

___The glass is set down. “Christmas is turning out a bit quiet this year, isn't it?”_ _ _

___“Guess so,” Pat says. John, instead, is struck with a sudden, severe foreboding._ _ _

___“So, I was thinking that perhaps we ought to invite some guests in for Christmas Day.”_ _ _

___“Who?” Pat prompts, impatiently._ _ _

___Henry crosses his hands, unconsciously mimicking his son._ _ _

___“The other day,” he says, “I found myself in a conversation with Mr. Manning-”_ _ _

___“No,” John says._ _ _

___Everyone stares at him._ _ _

___He breathes in. He feels like he's starting to panic. “I mean... I just – I'd prefer a quiet Christmas, actually, this year. With family.”_ _ _

___“Well.” Henry leans back, bearing the strange half-smile he'd worn the previous night when Alex had spoken about the necessity of business. “The Mannings rather _are_ family, now, aren't they?”_ _ _

___John stands up. He's literally shaking. He can't do this._ _ _

___“Sorry, I need to – head to the bathroom.”_ _ _

___Without another word he leaves, ignoring via self-preservation the startled stares of the other dinner guests._ _ _

___He can't do this. He seriously can't do this. He doesn't feel like a human anymore, just – a man-shaped ball of knotted flesh and blades. He's so fucking anxious he feels like he's going to throw up._ _ _

____It's fine,_ he tries. _Nothing's going on. There's literally nothing to be so fucking stressed about, it's literally just a family dinner.__ _ _

____I wanna die_ , comes the thought, unbidden._ _ _

___He takes a long, unsteady breath._ _ _

____All right, Emo boy_ , he thinks with feigned ease. _That's enough edge for one day. I do not_ actually _want to die_._ _ _

___He paces the bathroom over and over. There is so much turmoil inside him, as though someone's taken a blender to his insides, that his skin feels like it needs to burst to release the pressure, he can't breathe enough of it out -_ _ _

___There's a knock at the door, and John's panic turns white-hot for a second before he hears Alex's voice through it with a soft question._ _ _

___He waits a moment, but his heart doesn't speed up – if anything, his anxiety feels ever so slightly slowed. So he opens the door._ _ _

___Alex's eyes are wide and he looks more worried than John has ever seen him._ _ _

___“Sorry,” John says, with a puff of air. He still feels like he might throw up any minute now. “This was a bad idea.”_ _ _

___Alex watches him carefully, without moving. John appreciates, in abstract, the thought._ _ _

___Eventually, Alex says, quietly: “Would you like to go back to your room? We can say you're feeling sick.”_ _ _

___John is pretty sure that is the most blatantly transparent lie he's ever heard. But it's smoothing his edges, slowing the tornado within him, to hear someone suggest so confidently the exact thing he wants right now._ _ _

___“Yeah,” he says. “Cool.”_ _ _

___Alex nods, turning to leave. John notices again, with a touch of actual relief now that his emotions have not been entirely filled to capacity with stress, the way he makes this easy for him by not requiring any response from him. He wonders if Alex has ever been through this before._ _ _

___They take the long way back to his room, avoiding the kitchen. John leads them, as only he knows the way, and Alex follows without a word. The steady progress calms him further, the wood beneath his shoes and the cool air against his skin, even as memories return to him unpredictably and spike at his nerves._ _ _

___When they reach his room, Alex closes the door behind him. John runs a hand through his hair, clutches tightly._ _ _

___“I wanna drop out of law school,” he says._ _ _

___Alex stares at him._ _ _

___“...what? _Why?_ ”_ _ _

___“I can't do it,” he says._ _ _

___Alex looks horrified. “But you can! You're so, _so_ smart, and your grades are really good-”_ _ _

___“Only cause I study, like, _all_ the time.” The panic is rising again._ _ _

___“So do I! You think anyone here doesn't?!”_ _ _

___“Yeah, but – you study 'cause you _want_ to, I-”_ _ _

___“Because I _want_ to?!” Alex responds, with a shockingly clear note of offence._ _ _

___John drops his head into his hands. He really wants to throw up. “Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, that was a really dumb thing to say, sorry...”_ _ _

___“It's fine,” Alex says quietly, suddenly; John senses him reach forward but then drop his hand. “No, I know what you mean. You don't wanna do that anymore.”_ _ _

___“I can't.” John rubs his hand over his face. “Like, not – I mean – _emotionally._ ”_ _ _

___Alex is silent. He doesn't get it._ _ _

___“I just... Eurgh.” John balls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palm. Then he presses his nails into his cheeks. Talking is the only thing that puts a pause on his nausea, so he continues, as quickly as he can. “My entire life, I've been doing as much as I can, y'know? You heard my dad – just keep working, continuously, without a break. I've studied – practically everything there is to study, I speak like five languages, I fence, I ride – and I worked really, really hard to get into pre-law, and then I worked really hard at that, and now I'm in law school and – I'm done. I'm worn out. I can't do this anymore.”_ _ _

___He thinks Alex wants to speak but he doesn't stop. “Because – it's like you said, you know? This is what law school is all about. And then, I know what comes after that. If I go into the law profession for real, y'know, I know what that's like, how long those hours are – and politics means basically having eyes on you like twenty-four seven! And... if this is what I'm like now, if I'm this – fucked up, just about assignments and my dad and whatever fucking else, what the fuck am I going to do when I get out in the real world? Once I actually have, like, people depending on me, and maybe even lives on the line?”_ _ _

___He sighs. “I know this sounds...like, ridiculously _lifestyle movie_ , or whatever, but it's not like that. It's not like I have some kind of _childhood dream_ I'm aiming for – law probably _is_ the right thing, I do like activism and stuff, I just... And my dad - …I know he wants what's best for me. And probably, this _is_ what's best for me, long-term. But I can't do it. Everyone – he and you and whoever else – keeps saying I can do it, but I can't. I'm just – I'm not strong enough for it. I can't – fuck, some days I can barely even get out of bed! And all that, I've been dealing with it as long as I can remember, just kept pushing through it, but it keeps getting worse, and I just – I just don't see how it's ever going to get _better._ ”_ _ _

___He feels like a punctured balloon, his air all gone in a rush. He feels emptier now, but steadier, number._ _ _

___When he finally looks back, Alex looks like he's about to cry._ _ _

___“Oh, shit,” he says, shakingly pushing his hair back. “I'm sorry – I had no idea-”_ _ _

___John's stomach drops again. “No, no – it's not your fault, not at all-”_ _ _

___“But – that's what you wanted me to do, I get it now, and I kept saying all that-”_ _ _

___“It's fine, of course you didn't get it, I could've explained-”_ _ _

___“It's just-” Alex sounds worryingly high-pitched. “I – for me, growing up, that's the one thing I never had – someone who would just – who'd believe in me, and could see me achieving great things, and who'd work with me to do that, and stick by me the whole time- And I wanted to do that, for you-”_ _ _

___“And you did! You are!” John grabs onto his hand, pulls him close. “You've done _so_ much for me, even though I've been so hard to be around sometimes, and I really really appreciate that -”_ _ _

___“Because _you_ did that with me. You believed in me. You're the only...” Alex holds his hand tightly, but takes a deep breath in and out._ _ _

___John's heart pounds, not fast, but heavily. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”_ _ _

___Alex's eyes are wet. “Sorry...” But then he huffs a laugh, and covers his face with his other hand. “Sorry, I'm making this all about me now...”_ _ _

___John shakes his head. “It's fine.”_ _ _

___Alex squeezes his hand again. “I really wanna help more though. Whatever you need. So – so, you wanna drop out. We can do that.”_ _ _

___But John bites his lip. Now that he's gone through it all, he feels exhausted again. He drops Alex's hand and backs up to his bed to sit down._ _ _

___“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe.”_ _ _

___“...you don't want to tell your dad?” Alex suggests, slowly._ _ _

___“...sort of.”_ _ _

___John looks at him. He still doesn't understand why Alex is with him – not really. But he, himself, is impossibly blessed. Alex is so unbelievably supportive, and kind, and funny and interesting and attractive, and John has never loved anyone in his life even remotely the way he loves him._ _ _

___“...he'd definitely be mad. Like, that's not an option. The specific level, that I can't be sure of, but... based on what he's said in the past, he's not going to be okay with it.” His breath hitches at the memory. He thinks, now, that he might've been bluffing – that he might've assumed that John was only trying to test him or being rebellious for the sake of it, because that's the kind of self-absorbed thing his dad would think – but he can't be sure of it. Being cut off is a legitimate possibility._ _ _

___“But... maybe it wouldn't be so bad. If I did something close enough to it, something impressive enough, that he could still think of me as the son he wants to have, then I think he'd accept it, eventually.”_ _ _

___He looks up. From Alex's face, he understands._ _ _

___“I just...don't think I could have that,” he says, “and _you_ , too.”_ _ _

___The room is quiet._ _ _

___John doesn't know a lot about Alex's family – what he said today is the most he's ever spoken on the subject. But he knows that Alex understands what he means. And he has enough of an idea of how hard Alex has worked, on his own, without support, to know what it'll take to make it through that possible future: far, far more than John can manage to put forward, now or ever._ _ _

___“...then, I'll just have to be here, anyway.”_ _ _

___John looks up, tiredly. But Alex is defiant._ _ _

___“Whatever you choose, I'll be there. In whatever form you need me or want me. And I won't be the only one – Laf, Herc, even Washington – they'd all help you out, too – _will_ help you out.”_ _ _

___John frowns, but he's not done._ _ _

___“'Cause I know, all right -” He leans forward. “I know what it's like, thinking like you're just – not capable, in the way everyone else is.”_ _ _

___John swallows. “That's different-”_ _ _

___“How? It's the same deal. No matter how much try or how many pills I take, I'm never gonna be – _emotionally stable_ , the way other people are, or process things like other people, or anything like that. So maybe, right now, some stuff is a lot harder for you than for other people. That's fine. I mean, it's not good, but – it doesn't reflect on you, as a person. It happens. It's not insurmountable. And for you, this is something that you might get past, someday. And if not – then we can deal with that too.”_ _ _

___Alex's eyes are shining. “There's a counsellor on campus, right? Talk to them – I'm sure they'd be able to like, take a leave of absence to figure things out. Plenty of people do their degrees over four or five or even six years. You could even go back and do it part-time. And there's financial aid, as well, if you need it. Washington helped me with my scholarship – he'd definitely be able to find something to help you out as well. There are options.”_ _ _

___John is going to cry._ _ _

___“You deserve so much better than me,” he says in a breath._ _ _

___Alex moves forward, slowly – allowing John time to protest. He doesn't; Alex kisses him softly._ _ _

___“Not true,” he murmurs. “But even if it were – I don't care. Until I met you, I hadn't ever, like, _really_ trusted someone new since I was like ten years old. But then I fell in love with you. So... that's done, now. For good. You're stuck with me.”_ _ _

___John sniffs. His head is throbbing again, almost so painful it distracts him from the intensity of Alex's eyes._ _ _

___“So... what d'you wanna do right now?”_ _ _

___John closes his eyes; it's an incredible relief._ _ _

___Alex continues, seeing his hesitance. “Do you wanna – watch a movie or something? Are you hungry? You didn't eat anything...”_ _ _

___“Just... a movie would be good. I might sleep, though. You choose it.”_ _ _

___Alex nods. He retrieves his laptop and, with John's password, enters it and brings up Netflix. When John opens his eyes again to see the movie, he chuckles, a little._ _ _

___“The Grinch...?”_ _ _

___“No good?” But Alex grins. “C'mon, we both watched this when we were kids, right? Something easy, and nice. And, y'know – it _is_ Christmas Eve.”_ _ _

___John nods. “No complaints here.”_ _ _

___Alex puts the movie on and lies down next to him, above the covers, far enough away to preserve propriety. John kind of wants to call him closer, but most of him is too tired to deal with all of that right now. He lies back, watches the opening sequence, and is asleep before he knows it._ _ _

___*_ _ _

___He wakes up slowly, but this time, there's a sense of closure. It's Christmas morning, he thinks first. And then he remembers the day before – everything he had said to Alex, and everything Alex had said in return. He doesn't feel good, but he hadn't expected to. He feels a little vulnerable, a little naked; a self-conscious part of him is moaning in terror that he unloaded so embarrassingly all over his boyfriend, and that he'd never gone back to dinner to explain his absence to his family. But he doesn't feel quite so crushing a weight of obligation. The word, he knows intellectually, is 'better'; he doesn't _feel_ better, in the full meaning of the term, but it helps somehow to know that it applies._ _ _

___It's Christmas. Things are a little better than they were yesterday. Those two things are enough for now._ _ _

___He tenses a little when he sees Pat in the hallway, but she thankfully doesn't ask any probing questions._ _ _

___“Merry Christmas,” she says, with a sleepy yawn._ _ _

___“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and the words alone almost make him smile._ _ _

___“So, Dad decided not to invite the Mannings after all.”_ _ _

___John relaxes with a relief he didn't know he needed. “Thank god,” he mutters. He remembers, after a moment, that he never actually did explain to Alex what that was all about. But for now he waves the thought away. It'll come up at some point._ _ _

___Pat smiles sympathetically. Then frowns. “Jack...?”_ _ _

___“What?”_ _ _

___Pat hesitates, and crosses her arms. She glances around her. And then she says: “Just, uh... look. Don't feel like you have to listen to dad too much. He's kinda – he's an asshole.”_ _ _

___John startles. “What?”_ _ _

___“He's not a good parent.”_ _ _

___She looks sad, but not sorry._ _ _

___John stares at her. “Dad _loves_ us-”_ _ _

___Pat laughs. “Sorry, but – you, okay, yeah, I get. But me? Or Harry? Shit, Jack, he's spoken more to _Alex_ this holiday than either of us!”_ _ _

___John starts to protest, but she interrupts him. “But that's not the point. You can love something, or try hard at it, and still suck at it. And he is just not a good dad.”_ _ _

___John doesn't know what to say. He feels worse, now, but the words to argue aren't coming._ _ _

___“I disagree,” he says simply._ _ _

___Pat shrugs. “Think what you want. But remember I said it.”_ _ _

___She leaves through the living room. He crosses his arms, disturbed._ _ _

___The thought stews, for a long time._ _ _

___Eventually, with a small sigh, he follows._ _ _

___When he sees Alex, looking comfortable in sweatpants and a hoodie, he smiles. Alex catches his eye and grins, so happy just to see him that it hurts John just a little._ _ _

___“Merry Christmas!” Alex calls._ _ _

___“Merry Christmas!”_ _ _

___Alex is turning a small gift-wrapped bundle in his hand. “Doesn't seem like your brother's up yet, but – how about just the two of us exchange presents?”_ _ _

___“Sure, why not.”_ _ _

___Alex tosses the gift to him, waiting with poorly-disguised excitement as John retrieves his own from under the tree._ _ _

___When the paper is ripped open, Alex gasps._ _ _

___“Oh yeah, I totally forgot I mentioned I wanted that!”_ _ _

____Oh yeah,_ John thinks. _That's why I got that._ He'd forgotten._ _ _

___Pat looks happy for him._ _ _

___When it's done, he sits back – and sees that his father sitting at another table, with a mug of coffee. He jolts, worried, but his father isn't looking in their direction, and doesn't look upset._ _ _

___It's an opportunity._ _ _

___While the plan is forming in his head, John nods to Alex, and then in that direction. Alex sees where he's looking and returns the nod, seriously. And then smiles, just a little, encouragingly._ _ _

___Taking a deep breath, John walks over._ _ _

___“Merry Christmas, dad.”_ _ _

___Henry raises his eyebrows. “Merry Christmas.”_ _ _

___John sits down. “Er... sorry about last night. I, uh...”_ _ _

___“Alex told me earlier that you weren't feeling well.” His eyes are narrowed. “Was it your stomach? Was it something wrong with the food?”_ _ _

___“No, no. I didn't eat any food, anyway.”_ _ _

___“Are you hungry? No wonder you were sick if you didn't eat.”_ _ _

___“I'm fine.” Why is talking to his father always so exhausting? “No, sir, I – had something I wanted to ask, actually.”_ _ _

___Henry allows him, still frowning._ _ _

___“It's just, er...” He steels himself. “Well, I've been working really hard for a long time on school, to get the best grades I can while still keeping up with government and all – as well as maintaining the other stuff I've learned, like my languages. But for a while now, I've just been...pretty stressed out. So I haven't been able to keep up as much as I'd like.”_ _ _

___Henry is still listening, which is more than John expected. He continues with renewed confidence._ _ _

___“So, I've just been thinking lately, that it'd probably help out if I could... talk to someone? To help me with the stress. So I can make the most of my time, here.”_ _ _

___Henry doesn't speak. John prickles again, nervous – but then Henry leans back, letting out a long breath._ _ _

___“I'd like to think you could speak with me if you needed to,” he grumbles._ _ _

___John remains silent, awkwardly._ _ _

___But from the way Henry's brow creases, he's thinking the same thing John is._ _ _

___“All right,” he says eventually._ _ _

___It takes a few moments for John to understand. “All...right?”_ _ _

___Henry nods. “If you think that's best, right now, then do it.”_ _ _

___“...oh.” John sits up. “Uh – Thanks. I'll – figure out where I can go, and send it on to you?”_ _ _

___Henry nods, dismissively. “Go ahead.”_ _ _

___“Thanks,” John says again, then shakes his head. “Cool.”_ _ _

___Unsure, he stands up, but Henry turns back to his book, so John accordingly returns to where Alex has moved, sitting in front of the TV._ _ _

___When he sits down, Alex raises his eyebrows. John smiles, only a little weakly._ _ _

___Alex brightens – and then holds up the phone he's been twisting in his hands._ _ _

___“Got a text,” he says. “Dad.”_ _ _

___“...Oh!” John's eyes widen. “Is it – good?”_ _ _

___Alex shrugs, uncharacteristically shy. “'T's nice to hear from him.”_ _ _

___“...then that's really good,” John says, sincerely._ _ _

___Alex smiles wryly._ _ _

___The TV is blaring a commercial – one of those really cheesy, cringe-worthy ones where they try to sell space heaters or hairspray or something with a re-purposed centuries-old carol that's meant to be about God and goodwill to other men. _Capitalism,_ he thinks._ _ _

___But it lightens his heart a little, anyway. Because it's Christmas. And that's a good a reason as any to be happy._ _ _


End file.
